


Uproot

by WandererRiha



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen, Hanahaki Disease, I apologize in advance for your feels, Sephiroth keeps losing people who love him, family variation, fic at 2am, no beta we die like meh, what are tenses?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:00:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24731986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WandererRiha/pseuds/WandererRiha
Summary: Sephiroth keeps losing the people he loves.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	Uproot

**Gast & Ifalna - Hydrangea - Trust**

Sephiroth was five when he began coughing. He’d only just managed to stop crying. He missed Uncle Gast and Aunt Ifalna, and could not understand why they had left him behind. They’d been gone for weeks now, and the raw betrayal had dulled a numb realization that he was not wanted. That was when the coughing started.

Professor Hojo looked him up and down, tested his blood, took his temperature, blood pressure, peered into his ears and nose. When he tried to stick the tongue depressor in Sephiroth’s mouth, Sephiroth gagged, spraying the Professor with a mouthful of big blue petals.

“What on Gaia?”

He had to stand in front of the X-ray machine after that. One of the techs sneaked him a lollipop and Sephiroth hid under a desk and sucked on it while he listened to the grownups talk about him:

“He’s too young to have hanahaki! disease”

“The youngest known case before this was thirteen. There’s none documented earlier than that.”

“These X-ray and petals indicate hydrangea. That’s not a romance flower.”

“Familial?”

“How can it be familial? The kid has no family.”

“Well, easy enough to fix. We’ll just excise it before it gets any bigger. It’ll be better if he doesn’t remember, anyway.”

“Yeah, he’s young enough he shouldn’t even notice.”

Handy-hockey disease? Sephiroth had no idea what that was, or what it had to do with sports. He was constantly being told he was too young to do something, and assumed this would be no different. Finishing the candy, he surreptitiously hid the soggy stick in the nearest trash can and emerged from his hiding place.

He had an operation three days later.

On one hand, the coughing stopped. On the other, he felt weirdly empty. As if he’d forgotten or lost something important. After a while, he forgot that there had ever been something missing. The techs were right. He barely noticed.

\--

**Aeris - Sweet Pea - Goodbye**

When he came home from leave the first time, Sephiroth had hoped Aeris might be there to greet him. She wasn’t. She was gone. Stolen. Kidnapped. He asked if he could join the search for her, but was told ‘no’. He was to spend his time resting, and then he would be shipped back to the front. Sephiroth would have been much happier helping to search for his lost friend, but instead he was rigorously examined and tested to see how his body was dealing with the stress of war.

Apparently, it wasn’t taking it very well. Shortly before he was scheduled to return to Wutai, he sneezed. Little pink petals flew everywhere. Professor Hojo had growled something that until that time, Sephiroth had only heard from the older soldiers. Sephiroth was shoved in front of the X-ray machine again.

Sweet Pea. Early growth. If they took it out now, he should be fine. Minimal recovery time. He could return to the front with another batch of new recruits next week. Sephiroth was fifteen, but they still treated him like a child. No one asked what he thought, just expected him to follow orders without question and do as he was told.

“What do you remember about Aeris?” Hojo asked him once the pain of the surgery had subsided- anesthesia was useless on a SOLDIER- and Sephiroth was lucid enough to reply.

“Iris?” he echoed, confused. “You mean like the flower?”

Hojo’s smug smile had sent a chill through him that Sephiroth could not explain.

\--

**Elfe - Red Carnation - Fascination/Distinction/Love**

It was the first fight he’d ever lost. (Those in the simulator as a child did not count.) She’d bested him. Met him as an equal. Sent him sprawling in the dust because she’d outmaneuvered him. Elfe was to Avalanche what Sephiroth himself was to SOLDIER. After crossing swords with her, Sephiroth could not get her out of his head. It was ridiculous, foolish, beyond idiocy to entertain even a daydream. He’d thought he had a handle on it when he started bringing up ragged red petals.

No longer a child, with resources and a degree of privacy to claim as his own, Sephiroth conducted his own research.

Hanahaki. Unrequited love. Apparently this covered a lot of territory ranging from familial to romantic. It depended entirely on the patient and their unique situation. Sephiroth had an idea what his problem was, and wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Of course Elfe hated him; they were on opposite sides of this new war. Except, apparently, he didn’t hate her. Further reading told him he had one of two options: either somehow convince the woman who was supposed to be his arch nemesis that she was actually his one true love, or undergo surgery to have the growth removed. However, removing the offending flowers would likely remove any feelings or memories of the object of his affection as well.

The answer was obvious. He knew what he _should_ do; what made sense, what would be practical. Yet he put it off. He couldn’t lose the memory of their duel; the grace of her movements, the hidden power in her body. She would never love him, or even tolerate him. He knew that. But carrying around the memory like a coin in his pocket was its own source of comfort despite the increased shortness of breath, and the lengths it took to hide it.

\--

**Genesis - Peony - Bravery**

Genesis’ defection wasn’t as out of left field as the Board thought it was. Sephiroth had seen the signs, watched as Genesis slid closer and closer to the edge. He tried to help, but was thwarted at every turn either by Genesis’ pride, or Shinra’s interfering. Sephiroth wasn’t surprised when Genesis left, but it still hurt. Because it obviously hurt Angeal more, Sephiroth kept his pain to himself. Even when he started bringing up pink and white petals. Angeal had been vomiting rose petals for weeks. Now was not the time.

Peony. Bravery. Yes, Genesis had been brave. Braver than either Angeal or himself. They were cowards. Well, Sephiroth was. If he were truly brave, he would have run with Genesis, and maybe dragged Angeal along with them. Except that would have put Zack and Kunsel and hundreds of SOLDIERs into Heidigger’s control. Without the three of them to round out the balance of power, Lazard was not enough on his own to shout down the board. And so they stayed and helped each other hide the flower petals. Of course, they were eventually found out.

Between Elfe’s carnations and Genesis’ peony flowers, there was a lot to uproot. There were muttered discussions of transplants and tissue donation, then Hojo’s flat rejection of all ideas as patently absurd. Sephiroth would heal on his own. Failure was not an option. Yet again, Sephiroth submitted without protest or complaint. He knew as well as anyone else that the surgery must be done.

Even on the operating table, he’d never cried. This one time, he allowed himself the luxury of tears. Not many. Just enough to mourn, to mark his loss. When he wobbled back from the other side of the pain threshold, his abused brain did not remember why his lashes were salty and his cheeks wet.

\--

**Angeal - Lavender - Faithful**

Sephiroth remembered Genesis abstractly, his brain recalling only simple, black-and-white facts. He had been a fellow SOLDIER, they had trained together- specific instances were murky- and gone to war together- again, nothing specific- and then he had left. Not long after, Angeal had left too. He’d been unwilling to undergo the surgery that Sephiroth had submitted to.

Because Angeal remembered, because he still felt something, because his own illness was eating away at both strength and sanity, he disappeared. Even with no context, Sephiroth couldn't be angry at him.

Shinra wanted Sephiroth to find Angeal, but he didn’t see how he can. He was too muddled, too confused. Much to his chagrin, Sephiroth didn’t truly understand the situation. For the first time since he was a child, he felt exceptionally stupid. He can’t very well carry out a mission when he barely has any context. So they sent Zack, and Sephiroth felt horrible because while he’s lost most of his feelings and memories where his two oldest friends are concerned, Zack hasn’t. And this will kill him.

Zack came back alive, but he’d left his smile behind. Instead, there was Angeal’s blood on his hands. Sephiroth held him and swallowed back the urge to cough. Purple petals with a sweet fragrance. Rather than hide it, he went straight to the labs and confessed. Hojo performed the procedure the same day. It had hurt too much to wait.

\--

**Jenova/Lucrecia - Yellow Camelia - Longing**

Sephiroth went to Nibelheim short a lung. The remaining one heavily scarred, so badly damaged that even SOLDIER levels of mako could not fix it. Honestly, Sephiroth half wondered if they’re sending him out here to die? If he can’t recover from this, what use is he? It’s said that Turks don’t retire. So far, no SOLDIER has ever retired either. Sephiroth wasn’t sure he wanted to follow Angeal and Genesis down the same path of madness and pain, though he fully understood what drove them down it. Perhaps the Board was hoping that Zack would kill him too.

There were no monsters, unless Sephiroth counted himself. He’d known in the back of his mind, at the bottom of his heart that he was different. Different even from Genesis and Angeal. It hurt to find out that he wasn’t human, that by rights, he should not exist. But he learned his mother’s name, and that was something. She was dead too. He couldn’t be mad at her, but it didn’t stop him from missing her.

Her body was preserved under glass in a mako reactor of all things. Her face was cold and still, but it almost looked as if she were smiling down at him.

“Mother…” he didn’t notice the yellow petals that drifted from his mouth, just as he didn’t notice the sword until he’d been run through. The petals floated above him as he plummeted from the scaffolding.

More flowers.

She didn’t love him either.

Maybe it was better this way.


End file.
